by Thomas Key
Two streets down, the sound of Joe’s screaming woke Jaylin up. She stood and stretched, attempting to wipe away the exhaustion from her eyes. She did a quick headcount, her eyes moving over each bundled up person around her. Coming up two people short, she immediately took action. “Everyone up!” she yelled out. Everyone began to stir but not enough to her liking. “Raul and Joe are missing. Everyone get your asses up!” she yelled, emphasizing her point with a kick to Ken’s ass. The women in the group were up in record time and began to search the house. Kenneth, who was still fighting off sleep from exhaustion was the last to rise. As he finally stood, out of habit, he grabbed his rifle, which had been leaning next to him against the wall as he had slept. As his fingers wrapped around the weapon, the front door to the house opened slowly. Cara and Cayden were now fully awake and looked at the open door with Ken. The silhouette of a young boy was visible in the now stormy exterior. Kenneth sighed. “Ladies, I found them, they’re fine,” he said, still groggy, he stood and made his way to the door. “You two really shouldn’t be outside right now…” His sentence cut off as the young boy leapt for him, completely knocking him on his ass. “What the fuck?!” Ken yelled as he tried desperately to get the crazy kid off of him. The child's mouth was snapping, trying to seek purchase anywhere on Ken’s body. The kid’s eyes were pitch black, the previously soft whites around his pupils were bloodshot, and hostility oozed from the child. The thought of infection instantly spread through Kenneth's mind. His mindset clicked from is the kid alright to I need to kill this kid in just a couple of his heartbeats. He went from being on the defense to offense, like his mind had flipped a switch. He pushed the kid off of him, and using his own long legs to gain momentum. He slammed the small child up against the wall by the door. He couldn’t bring his rifle to bare, so he grabbed his knife from his pocket, flicking it open with the touch of a button. In pre-zombapoc times, switch blades were illegal in New Mexico. Now, who gave a shit? He stabbed upwards, feeling the sharp blade move its way from the kid’s chin into his brain. The longer than normal blade did the job and the child stopped flailing about. A noise caught his attention and Ken turned to see Infected that were flooding into the house from the open door. He turned back to see the child’s face. The child, Joe, his eyes now closed, and completely slack against Ken’s arms. “I’m sorry, Joe,” Kenneth whispered as he dropped the now lifeless body of the child and bolted to the side, attempting to slam the front door closed. There was a half dozen infected already in, but he was now trying to stem the tide. The door caught on the foot of an infected and he repeatedly slammed the door against it, hearing the foot break but still not getting it closed. “A little fucking help down here would be fucking dandy!” he yelled to the other members of his group. He could hear the sound of footsteps on the floor above him as they finally heard him and were heading back down to assist. The two kids, Cara and Cayden though were holding it down in the meantime. As Ken watched with his back against the wooden door, two of the six remaining infected went down as they were both speared through their eyes. Ninja kids, Ken thought as finally, reinforcements arrived. Isabel took two steps between the next infected and the children and drilled it through the head with a well-aimed shot. The other women filed into the room and finished the others off with no problem. Around them, they heard the shattering of glass as more zombies entered from every available entry point. All we wanted was a little bit of rest, but no, now we have to entertain a shit ton of guests, Kenneth thought as he finally made some progress with getting the door closed. All he had to do was kick a now severed foot back outside to get the door shut. This macabre version of footsies was creepy to say the least, but it had to be done. As his boot sent the foot spinning out into the darkness, he locked the deadbolt and swung back around, his rifle now up and ready, he took in the room around him. Dozens of zombies were breaking in. They fell through the windows and began to enter through the now destroyed back door. The back door is always the weak point, Ken thought as he continued his quick observation. Gunshots were going off all around him and Cara was trying hard to get into the fight with her homemade spear. Time seemed to slow down as he looked from side to side. Rachel and Isabel were in the kitchen, firing into the mass of infected reaching in through that window. Jaylin and Atencio were at the back of the house, almost out of his line of sight, trying to not so gently push them back out the backdoor. Cara and Cayden were back to back, covering each other’s flanks as they watched for any new targets in the main living room. Sheer numbers would win this game and Ken knew it. As time once again sped up, he shouted. “Everyone upstairs!” It was the only thing that he could think of. It was far easier to defend one staircase than it was to try to with all of these windows and doors. Play smarter, not harder. I wish I had some damn cheat codes, he thought as he pointed at Cara and Cayden then pointed to the stairs, urging them to get moving forward. The children were first up, bounding up the stairs quickly. Ashmore had been upstairs, raining lead from above into the horde below. She now was at the top of the stairs, ushering everyone else up. Rachel was next, followed by Isabel and Jaylin. Atencio took up the rear, still battered and bruised from the car ride earlier. The zombies flooded into the house and made a beeline for the stairs. If their lives had not been on the line, it might have been fairly comical to see so many shuffling zombies push and cajole each other out of the way, attempting to give chase at a speed that a doped-up snail could outrun. Kenneth was pushed back as something hit the front door that he was still up against. The force of the impact sent him sprawling and into the arms of one of the snail runners. This one was a dumb dumb who seemed to at first, not even notice as it began to hug Kenneth with open arms. “Sorry, I’m not ready for a committed relationship,” Ken said as he ducted under the zombie and pushed it out of the way. The front door burst open, the hinges clattering to the floor in the living room. The lone figure stood in the doorway, looking at the events playing out before it. Kenneth made it to the stairs at the same time as the front walking zombies. The women upstairs were picking their targets well and fired off round after round, keeping a lane open for Ken. He tripped two infected and finally reached the steps, jumping up them three at a time. When he reached the top, he was slammed against one side of the walls as a dresser made its way tumbling towards the bottom of the steps. It squished, for a lack of a better word, one unlucky zombie at the bottom. “Poor guy was underdressed,” Ken blurted out with a grin. All of the guns stopped firing as the women stopped to peer over at him. “It’s because he re-died by a clothes’ dresser. Get it?” he asked, smiling broadly. The women just looked at each other, each one shaking their heads and resumed their work. Other pieces of furniture soon found their way to the bottom of the steps, minus the jokes. The infected had to climb over each piece as if it was a new game show for a million dollars. Someone fired a round at the figure still by the front door but it missed its mark, hitting the wall slightly to its left. It ducked, and moved into the kitchen directly to its right. It ducked thought Ken as it watched the scene unfold. It must be one of the smart infected. That was the only conclusion that he could make at this point in time. Bodies began to pile up along with the furniture below creating a wonderful corpse-filled barricade. Eventually, the entirety of the steps was packed with bodies and it effectively sealed off the downstairs. As the last round left the chamber, they all stood, still panting from the exertion and the adrenaline pumping through them that it took several minutes for them to calm down enough to stop reacting and start thinking.
“What the actual fuck?” Rachel asked the group, still trying to take in much needed oxygen. “It was a trap,” Kenneth said as he slowly reloaded magazine after magazine, still keeping an eye on the pile at the stairs. “A trap?” she asked. “Yes. They waited until someone separated from the group, then they surrounded us.” “Who separated?” Jaylin asked. “The two boys. They’re dead,” Ken said, somewhat robotically. “What do you mean they’re dead?” Rachel said, pushing Ken up aga
inst the wall. His eyes immediately cut daggers at her as he rebounded from the drywall. “I mean I literally killed the one that attacked me, and based on the amount of fresh blood on the zombies that entered the house in the initial rush, they didn't stop with the one kid. That’s what the fuck I mean,” he said, staring the woman down. Her eyes though showed that the anger that had been welling within her was gone, and erased by sorrow. Tears began to streak down her face and she sat on the steps and began to cry. The other women all gathered around and shared in her grief. They could fill a small sink with the amount of tears pouring from the group. Ken, on the other hand, watched the pile intently and continued to reload with whatever ammunition that he could find. He had managed to save his own backpack and most of the group had theirs but not the two extra duffle bags that were unaccounted for. The loss hit Ken hard as those had held a majority of the extra ammo. The pile below shifted, slowly at first. It caught his eye and he stared at the dead zombie in the top right of the pile in the stairs. He watched as the dead undead was pulled from the pile, leaving a small gap. The next one was pulled back and the next. A hole was forming quickly. “Ladies, I hate to sound like an asshole right now but get your shit together. We’re about to start round two,” he said, pulling the rifle up to his shoulder. He heard the group start to breakup and safeties clicking off. Grief or not, survival came first for these women. He watched as an infected’s face popped up into the newly made path and he rewarded it with a round to its nose. It was disgusting to see results of a 5.56 round at close range going through the front of its face, and exit out the back. It fell forward but that infected was also yanked back as another body from the pile was pulled out, causing a small avalanche of bodies. In the room beyond, filling the room to capacity stood dozens of zombies, all hungrily staring at them. Ken felt a bit naked as they all looked at him as if he were the last piece of pizza at a stoner’s get together after an hour of dabs.
“Everyone, slowly move upstairs. Find a room that has a strong door and a large window,” Ken whispered. The remaining children were already upstairs, and one by one, the women backed up slowly and moved up the stairs. Finally, it was just Kenneth alone on the stairs. Behind the set of closest zombies, he could see the figure from before. It was grinning at him. “Wipe that smug ass look off of your ugly face,” Kenneth said, raising his rifle. With a wave of the figure’s hand, the closest group made a go for Ken. Pulling his rifle around to the new threat, his round missed the figure and went wide. The infected were now almost over the pile. Four of them were bounding towards him. Behind them, another wave was right behind. He fired two more shots and leapt up the stairs two at a time. The difference between a zombie and an infected was that a zombie was for all intents and purposes, just a walking corpse. A walking dead. The infected, on the other hand, were still for all intents and purposes, living. They were fast, intelligent and had much more dexterity. However, instead of a person with a cold, they had the Z-bug and their entire purpose was to spread it to others, while enjoying a snack. It made those abominations much more dangerous. No one had any idea about the side effects of the infection. It was believed that any sense of their wellbeing or even their soul was burned out during the turning phase, when the infection caused a massive spike in temperature. It was not long after that they tended to get up and start running after the next tasty morsel. At the end of the hall, as he guessed was a master bedroom, the door was open and Isabel was waving him forward, as if he needed extra incentive. The other women were on their knees, with rifles aiming his way. “Please don't miss, please don't miss,” he whispered to himself as he ran. One of the infected had nearly caught up and received a bullet to the neck as it tried to take a swipe at Ken. Another was taken down as it rounded the corner from the stairs immediately after. The hall began filling with smoke as Ken made it to the door. He looked back as a half dozen or so had made it nearly all of the way to their door. He slammed it closed, and locked it. A bookcase in the room was pushed in front of the door to help secure it. The large open window already had the screen removed and Rachel was peering down. “It looks clear,” she said. Kenneth fired four shots through the door and into the group on the other side. Rachel turned to look at him, questioning his action. “We want to keep them occupied while we make our escape. We don’t want them looking for another way in,” he said as he too looked down from the window. There was an old station wagon parked under the window. That was mighty convenient, Ken thought as the plan formed in his head. “Alright. Rachel, you go first. Aim for the car. Once you hit the ground, secure the area. The kids will go down next. If you start to get overrun, make a go for the vehicles and come back for us. She glanced at him. “We’ll be fine. Just do it,” he said. She reluctantly nodded. Using a series of bed sheets tied together, Rachel was lowered down onto the car hood below. As soon her feet touched the metal, her rifle was up and the sheet rope was raised back up. “Where the hell did you learn how to tie knots like these?” Atencio asked, watching him pull the rope up. “Boy Scouts,” he replied. She stared at him. “Are you serious?” she asked. He stopped long enough to stare at her. “Eagle Scout at your service,” he said as he resumed his pulling. She shrugged and grabbed a hold to pull the end up. The kids were prepped and were sent down next, one by one. Atencio had placed six more rounds into the door to keep the undead in their feeding frenzy. As Jaylin was lowered down next, the bedroom door began to bulge inwards. “We should probably hurry this up,” Ashmore said. “Ya think?” Atencio replied. “Ladies, focus on the real enemy please,” Ken said, as he continued to lower Jaylin down. A moment later, she was safely down, and he was bringing up the sheets for the next person. That left Isabel, himself, Atencio and Ashmore. In retrospect, he realized that if he was the last one down, there would be no one to lower him down. Whoops, poor planning on my part, he thought as he began to lower Isabel. The bedroom door splintered, and shards flew across the room. The remaining two women opened fire, further peppering the door with bullet holes. Thumps of bodies hitting the floor on the other side could be heard. Ken tried to ignore it, his sole mission right then was to get as many people down as possible. Isabel was holding onto the sheet for dear life as Ken looked into her eyes as he kissed her lovingly before lowering her down into the darkness. As Isabel hit the hood of the car, gunfire erupted outside. “Shit shit shit!” Ken said aloud as he lifted the sheets back up as quickly as he could. Sure enough, the infected were now converging on the group outside. He looked out the window and saw the zombies and infected piling out of the house and towards the waiting team. “Go!” Ken yelled. Atencio and Ashmore stood beside him, watching the same spectacle. “Get in the truck and get out of here! Now!” he shouted. Rachel was looking straight at him from the driver window of the Humvee. The writing was on the wall. Everyone piled in. As the horde closed the distance, slamming into the side of the vehicle, it started up and pulled down the driveway back towards Tramway Boulevard, leaving the three remaining members behind. Jaylin watched from the rear window, seeing the three of them silhouetted in the window as they took a left turn and left the house and their friends behind.
Chapter Eighteen
Several hundred miles away, I woke up. Again. I was fairly impressed with that, as I had still expected to either be shot or turned by now. The fact that I was neither surprised the hell out of me. The nurse, Sydney, woke me up while checking my vitals again. I felt worlds better and told her so. She smiled, and I smiled back. “Do you have a minute?” I asked her. Her eyebrow lifted as if her face was asking the obvious question of why. “I’d just like to talk for a bit if you have time.” Her face lightened and she glanced down at her watch. Apparently, content with what she saw, she sat on the bed, her scrubs bunching up as she did. Her breasts were pushed firmly against the fabric and it took an epic amount of self-control to not stare at those fine teeter totters. Instead, like the gentleman that I was, I focused on her eyes. They were stunning, with a hint of shyness in them. It was not hard for us to
hit it off. Our conversations drifted from our previous lives pre-zombapoc, to our favorite foods and what we missed the most since the world kicked the bucket. A country girl, she had moved across the country to get away from a checkered past with bad habits. She started fresh in New Mexico and it had been the best decision that she had ever made. Living in a small house outside of Santa Fe when it all went down; she had worked at a local clinic when everything went to shit. The fact that she had gotten out was a testament to her strength. It was actually quite refreshing to have a conversation with a decent person without zombies trying to get into the building. I let my guard down in more ways than one. I felt safe for the first time in what seemed like forever. I didn’t really feel free, as I was in a hospital room with an IV and a series of other gadgets hooked up to me, but I felt safe. Secure. She left the room after a hefty amount of time, and I wished her goodbye. As she left, I turned to my side and drifted off into a truly restful sleep.
